Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Micronesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Busters to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Roxette. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Ponytail,
Roxette,
Malaria!,
Nils Olav,
Boredoms,
Con Funk Shun,
Sparks,
The Doors,
Gang Starr,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Lower 48,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rekid,
Banda Bassotti,
Hashim,
New Age Steppers,
Fugazi,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
In Retrospect,
Crooked Eye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Newcleus,
Gong,
John Cale,
The Smiths,
Tommy Roe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bob Dylan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crime,
The Selecter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Zero Boys,
Half Japanese,
Shuggie Otis,
Japan,
Skriet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Max Romeo,
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sonic Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
China Crisis,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick Morgan,
FM Einheit,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.